Heartflame
by SapphireFireStar
Summary: A Dwarf loves only once. This love is not restricted to age, gender or even family relations and is the most powerful feeling a Dwarf will ever experience in their lifetime. If they can't have their Heartflame, Dwarrows will settle for no other and if lost no replacement can be found. Follow the Company of Thorin Oakenshield as more than one Dwarf discovers their Heartflame.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing beyond my own creativity, not even the computer I'm typing with.**

**Prologue - Heartflame**

Dwarves love only once in their long lives. Some believe that they choose this one love, their Heartflame, but others claim that their spirits had already been forged for only one other by Mahal, their maker, long before their birth. The belief that a Dwarf chooses their Heartflame stems from occurances where they end up loving someone who already loves another. If Mahal truly forged all Dwarves souls, why would he forge one to a love unrequited? On the opposite end, the love felt for the Heartflame is so powerful, how could it be anything other than something beyond mortal make?

No one knows for sure but none can deny that once found, the love won't ever be broken. If rejected by their Heartflame, Dwarrows will not settle for any other and will go the rest of their lives unmarried except perhaps to their craft. Should a Dwarf's Heartflame die, well, the Dwarf that is left behind never fully gets over the loss, to say the least. Couplings that did not involve children often resulted in the living Dwarf swiftly following the one they lost, unable to be apart from the other half of their soul.

Because of the nature of their fierce love for only one other in their entire life, no union is forbidden amongst Dwarrows. There are some that are frowned upon, such as those amongst immediate siblings, but none that are outlawed for the vast majority believe that it is not up to them whom they love, simply the will of Mahal. Even relationships amongst the same gender are accepted as normal, one of the only things that the Dwarrows have in common with the _Elves_. It is not hard to understand why when only one quarter to one third of the Dwarrows are female and not all of them choose to marry. In fact, it is quite common for Dwarf men to find love with another male Dwarf.

The power of a Dwarf's love for their Heartflame is legendary amongst their people, the problem is _finding _it. There is no sure way to find a Dwarf's Heartflame, as it is different for every Dwarf. Some find it the instant they lock eyes with their Heartflame, or even just glance at them in some cases. Others discover their hearts desire when they hear their voice, or only when they sing a drunken ballad. It is not uncommon for a Dwarf to require deep trust and long lasting friendship before the love appears, and it has also been heard to happen when deep anger or even the beginnings of hatred appear. Several Dwarrows have claimed to have had dreams about their Heartflame, leading them to where they will meet or unveiling what they look like. There are endless ways in which it could be possible to discover a Dwarf's Heartflame, but each Dwarf that has found one that the once they found them, they _know_ they are the _one_ beyond any doubt. It is a deep feeling of rightness, of belonging, of coming home, that spurs other Dwarrows to search out their Heartflame so that they too, might know such feelings.

Sadly, most Dwarrows never find their Heartflame. They never get to experience a love so powerful, it sets fire to the hearts of the ones in love giving it its name. It is the desire of every Dwarfling to discover their one, but sadly by the age of 150 most Dwarrows give up, some even before then. It has been mused by the occasional above-average intellectually inclined Dwarf that perhaps that is why Dwarrows are so fond of their crafts and of material possessions such as gold. If you worked hard enough at your craft there would always be results and you can endlessly obsess over gold and it will never turn you away.

The worst pain a Dwarf can experience is outright rejection from their Heartflame, the type where not even friendship is permitted. While rare, all that have experienced it have claimed that not even being set on fire would be as painful. Of the few times it has been documented, most have ended in the rejected Dwarf going mad or committing suicide. The ones that do neither eventually overcome the pain, but are never the same.

**Heartflame**

**SapphireFireStar: I've been inspired by the multitude of works for the Hobbit that I've read in the past week. I'm trying to keep my ideas original, but I will admit receiving inspiration from several works. I will strive to keep my story unique, and to bring something new to the table that can hopefully inspire others.**

**I'm currently also working on another chapter for my other story, **_**This Sickness**_**, but I will also work on one for this one as well. I'm going to try a new approach: writing smaller chapters as they come to me, as opposed to writing thousands of words per chapter and never getting around to posting them because I don't feel that they are 'done' yet.**

**What are the pairings? Well, you'll just have to wait and see!**


	2. To Catch a Thief

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit and I am making no profit from this.**

_**Heartflame**_

_**To Catch a Thief**_

Bofur was quite young when he first saw his Heartflame.

Bofur's family, consisting only of his brother Bombur and his cousin Bifur, had only recently moved into the Blue Mountains. They had travelled far and wide while they tried to make a living, but eventually they had conceded defeat and moved to take up residence with the refugees of the Dwarves of Erebor. They were all in the same lot: homeless, without proper work and struggling to survive.

The three Dwarves stayed together as they could hardly afford more than one home. They could only barely afford the small home they had as it was, never mind three of them. Bifur decided to join the army and fought to keep everyone in the Blue Mountains, but most especially his family, safe as he had experience with war. This choice of profession left his two cousins to constantly worried over him. Bifur would be gone for weeks at a time on patrol and they both wondered on the darkest of nights if one day he wouldn't come back.

Bombur took up two jobs, they were so desperate for money. Several days a week Bombur worked in the kitchens of nobles who could afford such a luxury. Bombur would make delicious meals and was paid enough that he couldn't complain but not nearly enough to make a living off of. The only benefit to this job was that Bombur was allowed to eat whatever wasn't eaten by the nobles, which helped to curb his nearly endless appetite. On the days that Bombur didn't work in the kitchens, and even some that he did, Bombur worked at his second, more unsteady job: toy making. The job itself was not nearly as stable as being a cook for snobbish nobles, but it was much more gratifying as he could work at his own pace and didn't have to put up with the higher-ups horrendous attitudes.

Bofur was quite young, in Dwarf terms, only a few decades past his majority. He liked nothing more to whittle wooden toys and sell them to excited Dwarven children or travelling merchants who would sell them to excited children in distant lands, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough. Unfortunately, Bifur refused to allow his youngest cousin to join the army – as head of their family he was able to do that – as he didn't want his cousin to get hurt fighting Orcs. Since Bofur didn't have Bombur's talent at cooking, he couldn't work in the kitchens and he was forced to find other work. He found other work, and it was nearly as dangerous as Bifur's. Bofur made sure to sign up when his cousin was gone so he could not deny Bofur's decision.

Bofur signed up to be a miner.

The mines were an incredibly dangerous place to work, but it was necessary to obtain the metals and gems for crafting and riches. It was dangerous because no matter how careful and experienced the Dwarves were, there was always a risk of a cave in or a line snapping under the weight of the miners as the hung over the abyss. The pay was good though, to compensate for the risk, and so Bofur stayed even when on his first day of work, a line snapped and 5 Dwarves fell screaming to their deaths at the bottom of the gaping hole that they had been mining in.

Bifur had been so mad when he got back from his patrol only to find out his youngest cousin had 'signed his death warrant', that Bofur truly feared that he would strike him. Bofur had quickly fled the house before he went to the market. The market was always were Bofur went when he was stressed. Looking at all the different wares amongst the many stalls always distracted Bofur from whatever turmoil he was feeling and today was no different.

Bofur didn't know why he looked up from the apples he had been thinking of buying – apples were Bifur's favourite fruit – and over towards the beautiful necklaces across the way. The apple stall was right at the end of the food sector of the market and the beginning of the 'luxury' section, but Bofur had never even bothered to look at anything in that direction in the many times he'd been here. He couldn't afford anything from that section, so why bother?

Bofur was about to look away when something caught his eye. A male Dwarf was making his way through the market a slight ways away from the necklace stall. Just like everyone else, he was taking time to stop and evaluate some wears before moving on. There was nothing extraordinary about him, besides maybe his unusual hairstyle, but Bofur felt his eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame. For some odd reason, Bofur wanted this unknown Dwarf to look at him, to watch him the same way he was watching this Dwarf.

The Dwarf came to a stop right in front of necklace stand. The owner of the stand was arguing with another Dwarf about something or another – Bofur was too far away to tell, not that he cared one way or the other – and the Dwarf Bofur had been watching seemed aware of this fact as well as he looked from the owner to the wears quickly. Then, without making any movements besides that of his hand, the Dwarf snatched a beautiful necklace off the display and stuffed it into his pocket.

Bofur was slightly enraged to watch the Dwarf steal from another Dwarf. For all the hard times Bofur and his family had faced, they'd never resorted to stealing. It angered Bofur that someone could just take what wasn't theirs so easily.

For it was easy. This thief was flawless. No one suspected him as he continued to look at the goods for a few moments longer, the exact same way everyone else was doing and the way he'd done it only moments before. No one thought to stop the Dwarf as he casually walked away to go look at another stall, observing those wares as well. No one even noticed that a necklace was missing and they probably wouldn't for a while yet.

At that moment, the Dwarf looked up and looked in the direction of the food sector. He seemed to sense Bofur's stare and locked eyes with him briefly. Somehow, he knew that Bofur knew what he just did, despite the distance between him. Instead of being afraid that Bofur might call the guards, the Dwarf had the audacity to smirk at him, not at all afraid that Bofur would do anything to him.

And he wouldn't, because the moment he looked the other Dwarf in the eyes, Bofur's entire world had changed. A great warmth had filled Bofur's entire body, along with a sense of peace and belonging. Bofur ached more than he'd ever ached before to go over to the other Dwarf and hold him close, to learn everything about him, to be with him for eternity. A fire was lit in his heart, threatening to overwhelm Bofur with its intensity as he stared at the other Dwarf. The Dwarf who just stole that necklace.

Remembering the necklace brought Bofur out of his stupor but it was too late. The other Dwarf had turned away and was quickly making his way out of the market and out of Bofur's sight. Bofur was torn between going after the Dwarf – his heart had felt rather empty when the Dwarf turned away from him – and running into the deepest, darkest cave he could find and crying his eyes out. Why did this have to happen to him? What had he done to deserve such a fate? He'd seen the darkness in the eyes of the other Dwarf, a darkness that one possessed only after they had killed others in cold blood. Why? Why Mahal? What horrendous crime was he atoning for?

What had he done to have a thief and a murderer as his Heartflame?

At that realization he'd been denying himself, Bofur fled the market like Sauron himself was after him. He didn't even notice as he knocked people over in his haste to escape from what happened just now, so distraught was the young Dwarf. Bofur was torn beyond belief, and he was angry with himself that he was even torn. Bofur's fickle heart was crying out for him to go back, to find the other half of his soul. It was in agony that the other was not near and was nearly crying that the other Dwarf was didn't recognize him, Bofur, as his intended as he did with him. Bofur's head on the other hand, was furious that his intended was such a vile person. How could Mahal choose someone like that for him? Hadn't he suffered enough with the death of his parents when he was still a Dwarfling? Why would his heart choose someone who would only hurt him in the end?

Tears ran down his face like rivers as he reached his home, but Bofur barely even noticed. He stormed past the alarmed faces of his siblings and slammed the door to his and Bombur's shared room. After collapsing onto the bed, Bofur began to sob in earnest as long suppressed memories forced their way to the forefront of his mind.

Bofur hardly felt it when Bifur picked him up and hugged him to his chest, although he did cling to him as he cried and coughed and mumbled nonsense in his depression. Bombur sat with them on Bofur's bead, rubbing his back and inquiring what was wrong and how they could fix it.

But Bofur couldn't tell them. Even if he had been coherent enough for speech, he just couldn't tell them what happened. Bofur couldn't tell them that the other half of his soul was a thief.

The same type of person who'd killed Bofur and Bombur's parents that horrible night so long ago.

**SapphireFireStar: Tada! I'd actually meant to save this one for later, but I started writing while taking a break from one of my other works and all of the sudden this appeared. **

**Let me know what you think, as I've never written this type of story before and am eager for some feedback so that I can continue to improve.**

**April 13, 2013**


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